


Mhaith

by Graf_Edric



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graf_Edric/pseuds/Graf_Edric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Dark Elf brought up in a fairly normal Morrowind family embarks on a journey which leads him to the discovery that the shocking explanation behind his unusual appearance also puts him in the unlikely position of being Tamriel's sole champion in the face of a terrifying and diabolical enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE – RAYNA’S STORY – Part I

Rayna Llethri didn’t want for much growing up as a young Dunmer noblewoman in their native province of Morrowind. The youngest child of House Hlaalu’s high-ranking patron and noble knight Gathal Llethri and his wife Elrosa, cousin of Grandmaster Vedam Dren, Rayna spent much of her childhood capering around her waterfront hometown of Suran on the island of Vaardenfel, or enjoying the good life on the Dren Plantation nearby, where her father worked as a senior guard. She was almost always accompanied by her two older brothers, Llaro and Daran, who were very protective and loyal to their younger sister (when they weren’t torturing her as older brothers tend to do). She was closest in age to Daran, who was less than two years her senior, and the two of them were inseparable as young children.

The Llethri children remained close throughout their childhood and into adolescence, especially Rayna and Daran. Daran had always been interested in the art of magic, and toward the end of his teenaged years, Rayna missed him terribly when their parents were able to send him to the College of Winterhold to study for two years. As he entered his early twenties, however, Daran became fascinated with the darker side of magic. He had aspirations of becoming a master conjurer, and began experimenting with different spells and enchantments aimed at calling into his service various Daedra – dangerous immortal creatures from another plane, known for their ruthless and deadly destructive abilities. Word around town was that Daran had begun associating with more radical members of the local Mages Guild, and that he had been in contact with some truly dubious characters. Necromancers, Gathal called them, mages who lived on the fringes of society, practicing their illegal dark magic in hidden caves and tombs, trying to bring back the dead by reanimating corpses. The family was concerned, and Gathal called his wife and children home to Suran for a serious discussion of these rumors.

When Daran arrived, he vehemently refuted the rumors of his association with necromancers. He had a completely different goal in mind; one that would stun his relatives even more than the idea of violating the sanctity of the dead. Daran Llethri had decided that he would be the first person in the history of his family to not only see, but actually enter the realm of Oblivion, the very home of the Daedra, and return to their home continent of Tamriel alive. No one knew what to say at first. Finally, Elrosa spoke up and desperately tried to deter her son from undertaking what they all saw as a suicide mission. Gathal agreed, and Llaro chose to side with his parents. Rayna, however, understood her brother’s desire to push the boundaries of magic, to do what no other Llethri had done – to make history.

She enthusiastically sided with her brother, and her approval seemed to further strengthen his determination to go through with his outrageous plot. Not even once did it cross her mind that the results of this endeavor could be tragic. She held the utmost faith in her brother’s ability to do whatever he thought possible. As she was the only one of his family who remained on his side, he told her some of the details of his great undertaking. He and his cohorts had discovered an ancient text that told of a way of creating a portal to Oblivion. They had already gathered the necessary items that would allow them to do so, and were planning on going in one at a time, briefly having a look around, and then returning through the same portal. Rayna begged to be allowed to accompany him for this undertaking, but he was adamant that it was not the sort of thing that he would want his little sister to participate in, considering her limited knowledge of magic.

Rayna had been taught the very basics of the magic arts by tutors as a child. She knew a few rudimentary destruction spells, how to light up a dark passage or make a simple health potion or two, but that’s about as far as she’d gotten. Most noble offspring were trained in the same way – basic magic, basic survival, basic combat. Had she chosen to pursue a career in the magic arts, she’d have likely been sent to the College of Winterhold in the northern province of Skyrim, as her brother had been, to receive a comprehensive education in the field. Rayna preferred combat to magic, however, and as it was not seen as appropriate for a noblewoman to be involved in this field, she was never formally educated. She often practiced with her father’s extensive armory when no one was looking. She had become quite accomplished with both longsword and bow. She often fantasized that there would be an invasion by some army of outlanders, and she would defend her family singlehandedly and be hailed as a heroine. She never really thought she would have the opportunity to do such a thing, but it was entertaining to daydream about it.

Rayna woke up late that morning, on the fateful day she would find out she had lost her beloved brother. Nothing seemed amiss at first, until she overheard shouting in the dining room of the family manor. She came downstairs to find Llaro and her parents in a state of panic, her mother pleading through tears for a strange man in an iridescent dark blue robe to “Please, find a way to save him!”

“I’m sorry,” the man replied gravely, “We’ve tried everything we can think of. I don’t know how it happened. We just lost him in there somehow.”

“No, no, no…” Elrosa collapsed into her husband’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Rayna’s heart leapt into her throat. She knew immediately what had happened. She was overcome with hideous guilt and regret over having encouraged Daran to go ahead with his plan. She felt responsible for this – and she knew what she had to do.

When the man in the blue robe left the house, she followed him out into the cobblestone street. He pulled a potion from his satchel and put it to his lips, but Rayna grabbed his arm before he could drink it.

“I need to get my brother back.” She told him earnestly.

He looked at her with an expression of pity. “I’m so sorry dear. There’s no way to get your brother back. Someone would actually have to go in after him, and chances are they’d be lost as well. We can’t risk it.”

“Please sera, _I_ will go in after him. It’s _my_ fault he did this. I encouraged him. I have to at least try.”

“I can’t allow you, in good conscience, to do that. Your parents have already lost a son. I will not be liable for the loss of their daughter too.”

Rayna pleaded with the man, but he would not relent. He hastily excused himself, downed the recall potion in his hand, and disappeared. She knew she would have to find another way into the realm of Oblivion.

The first thing she did after packing a small satchel with food and water was to take the stilt strider, a giant, spindly-legged insect used for transportation on Vaardenfel, to the district seat of Balmora, and visit the Mages Guild. She hoped that one of the members there would be able to at least offer her some idea of how to safely enter the realm of Oblivion and return unscathed. Balmora, like Suran, was built of mud bricks and stone. Situation on the River Odai, it was one of the few major cities on the island of Vaardenfel.

Most of the mages had little time or tolerance for this young woman and her tale of woe. They were too busy selling their potions or enchantments to deal with her. But after overhearing her frantic pleas for assistance, a kindly Orcish alchemist took her aside and offered advice. In a hushed voice, she explained that there were two things that could create a portal to Oblivion at will: an extremely powerful mage, or a sentient daedra – a Dremora, to be specific. If a relatively skilled conjurer could bring a Dremora to Mundus, their term for the world of mortals, then she might be able to convince the creature to bring her back to Oblivion. Returning to Tamriel would be a different story, however. Perhaps, offered the alchemist, someone more familiar with conjuring might know a way.

Her hopes renewed, Rayna thanked the Orc woman profusely and raced back to the stilt strider platform, not quite certain what her next move should be. She wracked her brain, trying to think of the most powerful mage she knew. Only her brother came to mind, and his accomplices. And apparently they were not of a mind to assist her. Her only other option was to find a conjurer who would be willing to bring a Dremora to the mortal plane just to allow her to try to bargain with the creature. She knew of an enchanter who operated in Ald’ruhn, in the massive, extinct crustacean’s carapace-turned-manor-district where her Llethri cousins lived. She was fairly well acquainted with him, and knew him to be a decent man. If anyone would be willing to help her, it would be him.

After disembarking the stilt strider once again, she flew down the steep ramp and sprinted into the gigantic, more or less mushroom-shaped chitin structure known as Ald’ruhn Under Skar, deftly navigating the narrow rope-bridge walkways inside as she’d done so many times playing tag in her childhood. The cavernous interior was dimly lit by numerous hanging lamps, and residents and Redoran guards meandered about, often getting in her way. She stopped to catch her breath for a moment outside of the conjurer’s shop, and then ducked inside, praying to the gods that he would be there.

The shopkeeper, an older Dunmer gentleman by the name of Llether Vari, immediately recognized her and quickly realized there was something amiss.

She explained her dilemma as Llether listened patiently. Finally, he put a hand on her shoulder and began to explain the reality of such a proposition. He told her that although he could conjure a Dremora for her if she wished, or give her a scroll that would allow her to do so herself, he had never heard of a conjured daedra being able to create a portal to Oblivion. Rayna begged him to try anyway. The enchanter searched his shelves and handed her a rolled parchment scroll. She untied the twine and opened the scroll, carefully reciting the words written in Daedric on the yellowed parchment. She could barely pronounce them, and she had no idea what any of them actually meant. Presently, a dark mist formed before her eyes, and out of the mist, a form clad in glittering, jagged black and red armor emerged. The creature was terrifying to behold. He was as tall as an Altmer but much more muscular. Behind the helm she could see the dark, mottled flesh and glowing red-orange eyes glaring through her, bared teeth blackened and rotten, and a foul stench of brimstone mixed with burnt flesh wafted to her nostrils. For a moment, she was speechless with horror at the very sight of this monster.

“What do you want, mortal?” the creature roared in a voice befitting its appearance, full of hissing fury and resonant tonal echoes evocative of a raging inferno.

Stunned, Rayna staggered back a few steps before mustering the courage to speak. “I would like to come with you, back to Oblivion.” She announced, trying to sound as assertive as she could in the face of this demonic, nightmare creature.

“You cannot come back with me, foolish mortal! Spare me your nonsense!” The dremora thundered.

“But you must, please. My brother is lost in Oblivion and I have to bring him back.”

“Impossible!”

“You know my people respect, and even worship your kind,” Rayna reminded the creature as politely as she could.

 “As you should, mortal.” The dremora hissed.

“Is there nothing you can do to help at all?” Rayna persisted, gaining confidence.

“There is nothing I can do, as I am not here in the flesh, but only in spirit. My flesh remains in the Deadlands with my true master. If there is nothing else you wish of me, I shall return to him presently.” Everything the creature said sounded like an angry curse.

“No... That was all.” Rayna shook her head, and the dremora was enveloped once again in a dark mist before disappearing altogether. She slumped against the shop’s counter, filled with a sense of hopelessness.

Llether gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

“Now what am I supposed to do?” She sighed dejectedly.

After a moment of pondering, Llether spoke up. “You might want to make a trip to Sadrith Mora, or Tel Aruhn, or one of those places. The Telvanni have powerful wizards, and I’ve heard rumors that at least a few of them have been able to travel to Oblivion and back. I don’t know if the rumors are true, but it might be worth a try.”

Rayna thanked him and headed back outside. It was getting late. The setting sun along with the wind-blown dust from Red Mountain, Vaardenfel’s massive central volcano, cast an eerie yellowish-beige light over the town’s buildings, most of which were constructed in the typical Redoran style, from the shells of gigantic extinct insects. The whole town looked to be the same drab, ochre color. In the distance, a cliff racer screamed piercingly. She was exhausted, and she just wanted to get back home to Suran to rest and plot her next move, but she knew that as long as her brother remained in Oblivion, the chances of finding him alive lessened with each passing second. The lands of the Telvanni were mostly only accessible either by boat, or by Mages “Guild Guide” teleportation. She hurried to the Mages Guild and mustered up the modest fee for teleportation to Sadrith Mora.

In a matter of seconds, Rayna found herself standing in the Imperial stone fort known as Wolverine Hall which was located just to the south of the actual city of Sadrith Mora. Upon exiting, she could see the twisted mushroom structures that comprised most Telvanni settlements. The Telvanni were the most aloof and independent of the Great Houses of Morrowind. They mostly kept to themselves and stayed out of the business of the other houses, unlike her House Hlaalu, which was much more involved in the politics of the land. Rayna had traveled to the Telvanni holdings before, and was always impressed at the beauty of the mushroom structures, but she was wary around the Telvanni themselves. She had heard many things about them, not all very positive.

The first thing she did was to check in at the local inn and tavern. She bought a guide to the city and spoke to the innkeeper, who seemed distracted and wasn’t much help. As she sat at the bar, sipping her pint of matze, she swore she heard someone call out her name. She whipped her head around one way and then the other, her long auburn locks becoming stuck across her face in the process. As she tried to brush them away, she heard her name again. This time, the voice was right in front of her and when she looked up, her eyes met the soft, rosy gaze of another young Dunmer, a man about her age, who looked vaguely familiar.

“Rayna?” He  repeated, “Rayna Llethri?”

“Yes…?” She answered, wracking her distracted brain to recall who he  was.

“Wow, it’s been ages! How have you been?” He asked excitedly, going in for a hug.

Rayna was mortified. She knew she remembered him from somewhere, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of his name. He was a rather nice looking young man, too, which made it that much more embarrassing.

He stepped back and looked at her for a moment. “You don’t remember me, do you?” He asked with a good-natured and knowing grin.

Rayna shook her head bashfully.

The young man laughed. “It’s alright – I’m Sevyn Aryon. We used to play together when we were kids, back when I lived in Suran. Now I’m a hireling in House Telvanni. How about that?”

The memories came rushing back. Yes, Sevyn! They ran around together as children. He looked a lot different now that he was all grown up. He’d been one of Daran’s closest friends… _Oh, poor Daran._ Her heart sank. She had to tell him about Daran. Maybe he’d know of a way to save his old childhood buddy.

Sevyn started to say something else, but Rayna cut him off. “Sevyn, you’re not going to believe what happened to my brother. He’s trapped in Oblivion, Daran, and I’m so scared. That’s why I’m here, to try to find a way to get him back.” Rayna blurted out, wondering if she’d said too  much, too soon.

Sevyn looked puzzled for a moment, as if he half-expected her to burst out laughing and tell him she was only joking. When she remained silent, his expression changed abruptly to one of concern. “Wow. How in Nirn did that happen?”

“We don’t know for sure. His mage buddies were planning to travel to Oblivion and then come back, you know, just to see if it could be done. I guess he was the first to go in, and he never came back. They said they tried everything they could think of to retrieve him, but nothing worked. He’s still in there, as far as we know …Hopefully he’s managed to stay alive.”

“That’s… crazy. I’m so sorry.” Sevyn replied softly.

“Do you know of anyone who might be able to help me get him back?” Rayna felt a little guilty for pumping him for information so soon after their reunion. She knew it was rude, but all she could think about was saving her brother. She didn’t have time for pleasantries.

“Well, actually… I’m in pretty good with some of the wizards around here. I’ve even had personal meetings with House Father Neloth before. Maybe we can ask around and see if anyone has any ideas.”

“Yes, let’s.” She agreed, trying to seem cheerful in spite of her worries.

They wandered through the streets, between meandering rows of giant, twisted mushroom structures that housed the shops and the residents of the town.

“I hear your papa’s a House Father now,” Sevyn said, leading her to one of the organic spiral staircases that led up to the enchanter’s shop.

“He is. So why didn’t you just join House Hlaalu?” She asked, smiling up at him. He had the nicest eyes. They radiated kindness.

“I don’t know… I wound up over here and I liked it I guess. I get along well with the Telvanni. There aren’t so many rules and hang ups as you find with the other houses. No offense to your papa, of course.”

“No, I know what you’re saying. They get so involved in the drama of it all. I don’t want any part of it,” she agreed.

The enchanter, unfortunately, wasn’t of much help. They headed for the main tower, Tel Fyr,  and Sevyn started asking around there. The tower was a massive, tangled stand of giant mushrooms among vine-like tendrils, twisting and curling up into the sky. Rayna hadn’t brought any levitation potions, so they were limited to the ground floors of the tower. But Sevyn ran into a friend of his, a young wizard by the name of Olvys, who was more than happy to investigate her case. He consulted several volumes on the subject while Rayna and Sevyn waited, reminiscing about their childhood adventures.

Finally, Olvys came over and interrupted their ruminating. “Listen,” he said, looking from one of them to the other, “This is not something I can do for you. And I don’t actually know anyone powerful enough to do it, to be honest. The only way I can think of that you might be able to do this is to find a daedroth, one tied to the mortal plane. One who is actually here, in the flesh – not a summon or anything like that – and ask it to help you. I don’t know how this will go. Dremoras tend to be pretty hard to bargain with. But it’s the only way. I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with something better.”

“No, it’s alright. Really. I appreciate your help,” Rayna assured him.

Sevyn thanked his friend and the two of them wandered back outside.

“So what the hell are we going to do?” Sevyn muttered, kicking at an invisible object with the toes of his boots.

“I don’t know. What do you mean, ‘we’, anyway? I’m the one who encouraged Daran to do this. This is my fault. You’re not accountable in any way.”

“You think I’m going to let my best mate be lost in Oblivion and not at least try to help? No way. I’m with you on this, we’re going to get him back one way or another.”

Rayna was taken aback by his willingness to help her. She wasn’t sure what to think.

“Um, I know they keep saying stuff about dremoras,” she said, avoiding the thoughts she was having about Sevyn and his unexpected compassion, “What about a scamp? There’s that one in Caldera – you know, the one who’s like a merchant? I bet he can help us.”

“ _Creeper!_ Yea, I didn’t even _think_ of that! You’re a genius, I’m telling you.” He put his arm around Rayna’s shoulders and pulled her in close. She instinctively leaned her head on his chest. He felt warm and solid under his clothes. “We should get some  rest first,” he suggested, “You’re welcome to stay with me. Do your parents know where you are?”

“No, that’s the thing. I didn’t tell them where I was going or what I had in mind. They would have tried to stop me. And time is of the essence, as they say… If we’re going to do this, we need to do it now. The longer Daran stays in Oblivion, the less of a chance he’s going to be alive  when I find him… _If_ I find him…”

“Okay, I understand. We will head for Caldera now. Do they have a Guild Guide?”

“Yes, they do.”

The two rushed back to Wolverine Hall to be transported directly to Caldera.

“Ahhh, gotta love Guild Guides,” Sevyn sighed, taking her hand as they left the Mages’ Guild in the small, Imperial town of Caldera. The residents who were still awake at such a late hour eyed the couple suspiciously.

“Creeper’s in that old manor with all the orcs, right?”

“Yes, that one…” Rayna pointed to a three-story, wood framed building on the other side of the street. “I hope he’s awake.”

“Do daedra sleep?” Sevyn pondered aloud. “I mean, they’re immortal, right? I don’t _think_ they do…”

“I don’t know. Do they eat?”

Sevyn chuckled. “Probably only as some kind of vengeance against their enemies. Like, _‘I’ll feast on your entrails!’_ , you know, that sort of thing.”

Rayna giggled. “That sounds about right.”

Creeper the scamp was hiding out on the top floor of the mansion, surrounded by his peculiar assortment of wares. He assumed that the two Dark Elves were looking to buy or sell something, and encouraged them to have a look at his selection.

“Actually, we’re here to ask you something else… this might seem a bit odd…” Sevyn began.

“Odd is good! Creeper likes odd. Breaks up the boredom.” The scrawny, crouching creature replied. He was monkey-like in appearance and stance, but hairless, with long, pointed ears and sharp teeth. He wore only a small, tattered loincloth. His ribcage could be seen under the pasty, sallow skin.

“Well you’ll like this then. We need you to open a portal to Oblivion for us. You think you can do that?”

“Oh no, noooo… Creeper cannot help you. If he could open a portal to Oblivion, do you think he would stay here? Working so hard, selling things to silly mortals all day? No, sir. Not a chance! You need a dremora. A kynval. Yes, a kynval can open this portal for you… Maybe. If you ask _verrrrry_ nicely.” Creeper chuckled at his own perceived wittiness.

“Where in Nirn are we going to find a dremora though?” Rayna demanded, trying to hide the panic in her voice.

“Hmm… Daedric ruins. But that could be dangerous. Oh yes -- Creeper hears they have one in a temple somewhere. Never been there, only heard.”

“Where?”

“Not sure, only heard of him. A dremora… he’s there to… guard something.”

“Maar Gan!” Sevyn blurted out, “He’s in the temple in Maar Gan!”


	2. Chapter 2

PROLOGUE – RAYNA’S STORY - Part II

“Let’s go,” Rayna grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the staircase.

“Wait! Creeper, I have one more question for you!” Sevyn called out as he was being pulled away.

“Yes?” The creature replied.

“Do you ever sleep?”

“No, Creeper never sleeps. Too much to do, no time for sleeping!”

“How about using the toilet? Do you ever…?”

“Come _on!”_ Rayna impatiently cut him off and yanked him down the stairs behind her.

“I’m just _curious,”_ Sevyn explained sheepishly.

Rayna was exhausted, but she refused to stop and rest. Getting to their new destination would require a trip by guild guide to Ald’ruhn followed by a stilt-strider trek to the smaller Redoran town of Maar Gan.

It was almost sunrise by the time they arrived at the temple. The shrine was empty, and the two fatigued adventurers found themselves alone with the dremora.

The tall, armor-clad creature was standing next to a large, rounded, black rock, which had a plate with an inscription on it.

As Rayna and Sevyn approached, the dremora snarled at them, “I am Anhaedra. If you are a pilgrim, read the inscription on the stupid rock.”

“We’re not pilgrims,” Rayna said, a slight air of exasperation to her voice.

“Then what do you want?”

“I need to get to Oblivion, and I want you to help me.”

The dremora actually looked a little shocked.

“I was told that dremoras can create a portal to Oblivion.”

“Why should I help you?” The creature sneered.

“If you help me, I’ll help you,” Rayna offered. “Just tell me and I’ll do it, whatever it is.”

“Don’t say that,” Sevyn whispered, “What if he’s feeling a bit randy?”

“I don’t care, I’ll do anything. If that’s what it takes then I’ll do it.” She retorted, too determined to see the humor in Sevyn’s admonishment.

The dremora sniffed. “You _are_ desperate, aren’t you, mortal? Take me back with you, then. That’s what I want. I want to go back to Oblivion, even if it’s only for a bit.”

“Fine. How do I do it?”

“When I make the portal, you pull me through it before it closes. I cannot go by myself – I am tied to the mortal plane. You will have to take me. And don’t expect me to bring you back to this cesspool either. You’ll have to find your own way back.”

“Alright,” Rayna agreed. “It’s a deal.”

“And if you leave me here, I will find you and tear you to pieces. Stupid girl.”

“Wait. Rayna – let me do this,” Sevyn stepped up.

“Trying to be chivalrous, are we?” The dremora said mockingly. “How droll.”

Sevyn shot him an irritated glare. Then he turned back to Rayna. “Please. I can’t let you do this. I can’t stand here and just watch you go.”

“No, Sevyn. I appreciate your offer, I really do. But I have to do this myself. If I lose you too, or you come back without Daran, I’ll still wind up going.” She grabbed both of his hands and stared into his face, pleading. “I need to be the one who does this. I caused it.”

“But Rayna… what if…”

“Shut up, pathetic idiot. The girl will go. The kyn will have more fun with her,” the dremora laughed evilly. “Now let’s get on with it.” He raised his arms and hissed a command in Daedric. A dark whirlpool appeared in midair, glowing purple at its edges. It widened into an oval large enough to fit through. Rayna moved to face the dark portal.

“Wait. Take this. You might need it,” Sevyn thrust the handle of a small, silver dagger into her palm. She curled her fingers around the cold metal, holding it close to her side.

“Thank you,” she whispered, trying to seem brave and unshaken. A penetrating feeling of dread had begun to overtake her, making her heart pound loudly in her ears. This was it. She very well might _never_ come back. She steeled herself and stepped forward.

“Now, mortal! Take my hand!” The dremora commanded, reaching for Rayna.

Rayna cast an uneasy last glance over her shoulder at Sevyn, grabbed one of the creature’s enormous, armored claws, and stepped through the portal, hauling the dremora’s massive weight behind her. It took all of her strength to pull him through. She cried out with exertion, finally dragging him far enough to bring him through to the other side.  Then she lost her grip and fell face down in hot, volcanic dust. The dremora nearly trampled her as he plowed past, disappearing before she had time to raise her head. The sudden heat in the air was overwhelming – she felt as though she’d just fallen into Red Mountain.

Looking around, Rayna found herself in the most inconceivably hostile environment imaginable. The sky was an angry glowing red, visible through fissures in dark, swirling clouds. The landscape was scorched and barren, with no signs of life save for a few coarse, scattered weeds. Rivers of molten lava flowed through jagged crevasses. In the distance, she could see craggy, blackened mountains rising up from the desolate plains.

Rayna picked herself up and brushed the dust off her fine clothing, the cost and quality of which meant literally nothing to anyone at this point. The portal shrank and then disappeared completely. She suddenly felt quite small and terribly alone. She hadn’t thought out her plan very well at all. Even if she managed to locate Daran, if he was still alive, how would she be able to bring him back? She hoped that between the two of them, they would manage to find a way.

She knew that the dagger Sevyn had given her wouldn’t do much good against anything larger than a scamp. She wondered if possibly she might be able to find a better weapon before she ran into anything too unsavory. Just ahead, she could make out a footpath in the dust. She decided to follow it, keeping a very watchful eye out for anyone – or anything – else that might wish to do her some sort of harm. The plane of Oblivion didn’t harbor many inhabitants that were known to be friendly to mortals; even the Dunmer, who openly worshipped many daedra. Most races of the continent of Tamriel were averse to the idea of revering the daedra, but the Dunmer, or Dark Elves, as the man-races called Rayna’s people, believed that they were actually descendants of these beings. She knew, however, that this fact would offer little protection if any, should she come across a dremora lookout or a wandering daedroth.

One of the first things she came across as she followed the footpath was a ghastly scene comprised of a burning corpse, hanging from a dead tree beside what looked to be a giant, fleshy cocoon of some sort. Horrified, she immediately inspected the corpse and its surroundings for any sign that it might have been Daran. She was relieved to find items that not only excluded the possibility of this hapless victim having been her brother, but also served to benefit her – on the ground below where the body had been hung was a simple hunter’s bow and a quiver holding several rusty, iron arrows. Not the best quality, but certainly better than nothing. She then eyed the cocoon warily. She was dying to know what might be inside, but afraid at the same time. What if it was some huge, hideous insect which would emerge to rip her face off upon being disturbed? She armed herself with the bow, took several steps backward, lined up the shot, and fired off an arrow into the strange  object. Nothing happened. Feeling a bit more confident, Rayna marched over and pulled the arrow free. She poked at the thing several times with no reaction from whatever, if anything, lurked inside. Finally, she pulled out the dagger and cut into the thick, greenish covering. The interior was empty, except for a large quantity of slippery, clear slime. It was repulsive. Rayna gave into the temptation to sniff it and immediately regretted the decision. It smelled like the insides of a recently slaughtered guar. She vigorously wiped her hand on the tree, hoping to scrape off the loathsome substance.

            The path Rayna was following seemed to lead toward the mountains. As she continued her trek, she noticed a great tower-like structure looming among the many peaks ahead of her. It looked suitably foreboding, reminiscent of the armor worn by the dremoras, with huge, dark blades jutting out around the upper portions and one narrow window which was alight with a fiery glow. She didn’t know whether to head for the tower in the hopes that she would find Daran being held within, or to avoid it due to the fact that it was likely crawling with hoards of murderous daedra.

            She decided, against her better judgment, to head for the tower. As she drew nearer, she saw two dremora guards on the bridge in front of the main gate, pacing to and fro and occasionally stopping, presumably to confer with one another. She delicately maneuvered herself among the rocks, staying safely out of view. She knew she had two options: Either pick off the patrols with her bow and arrows, or wait until their backs were turned and make a run for it. Both options were scary and left absolutely no room for error. Rayna decided to see if she could line up a good shot first, having no idea if she might even be able to quickly open the gates without being detected. She got as close as she dared, close enough to see their eyes glowing red and hear their voices muttering in Daedric. One of the two wore a robe and no helm, and she knew that if she could pull off a precise headshot, she’d be able to take him out instantly. The other one would be more difficult. He wore a full suit of armor and a heavy, many-horned helm, leaving few options for a kill-shot.

            She waited silently for the perfect shot to present itself. Finally, she thought she had it. As soon as she released the arrow, however, she instantly knew she’d missed. She watched in horror as the arrow whizzed just behind the robed dremora’s head, landing in the lava on the other side of the entrance. The dremora whipped around, searching the area suspiciously, but the arrow had already been incinerated, and fortunately for Rayna, the creature quickly returned to pacing back and forth as though nothing had happened at all. Again, she waited. Her muscles ached from remaining in the same position for so long. She shifted her weight to relieve some of the tenseness. The robed dremora had stopped to speak to his companion. He was facing away from Rayna, and she had a clear shot at the back of his head. Gingerly, she drew the bead once again, ever-so-carefully aiming at her target.

            _WHUMP!_ The arrow lodged itself deep in the dremora’s skull and he abruptly crumpled, without even making a sound. Rayna barely had time to celebrate, however, because the other dremora immediately began straining his neck in her general direction, trying to find the source of the arrow that had struck his fallen comrade. She quickly pulled off another shot. It was low, and hit him in the knee. Rather than crippling the creature, this only seemed to enrage him. He yanked out the offending arrow and threw it aside angrily, charging toward the very rocks where Rayna was cowering. She backtracked as he charged forward, managing to skirt his field of vision and hurry past him amid the jagged outcropping. In order to further distract him, she turned around and shot an arrow farther into the rocks, in the direction opposite of where she intended to go. As the dremora wandered further away in search of the source of the sound, Rayna raced up to the decorative stone gate and shoved it open.

            Inside the tower, a ferocious geyser of molten rock and fire surged to the very top of the building. The heat was nearly unbearable. The building appeared to be constructed entirely of volcanic rock, flesh and bone, and ebony, with gleaming red Daedric glyphs and embellishments throughout. Rayna flattened her back against the wall and inched along, hoping to remain unseen. A scamp scuffled past, apelike in its appearance and movements. Rayna ambushed it from behind, cutting its throat with the dagger. Dark blood pooled on the stone floor. Scoping the scene, she was certain she was alone on the ground floor of the tower. The center portion was open to the ceiling, so she knew that if she were to step out, she could probably get a decent view of each floor. But that also meant that anything on any of those floors would be able to get a decent view of her as well. She decided to take the risk, rather than trying to scale the tower undetected, which she knew was a virtual impossibility. If Daran was in this tower, there was a reasonable chance that she’d be able to see him. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows, straining her neck to see as far as she could. Second floor – clear. Third floor – clear. Fourth floor – clear -- wait… she thought she saw something, a figure, wandering up there, almost out of view.  Suddenly, she realized she wasn’t looking at a human being, but a dremora. And now it was looking back. Rayna stepped into the shadows but it was too late. She could hear the creature shouting commands to unseen others. She turned around, realizing she had no idea where the gate was anymore. Panicking, she ran through the cavernous room, befuddled by the many arches and angles, desperate to find the gate through which she’d originally entered. Over roar of the lava fountain, she began to hear the armored footsteps of the monsters that hunted her, drawing closer by the second. Just as they began to descend the final staircase, she found the gate and pushed it open. Outside, the dremora she’d shot in the knee was waiting. He turned and rushed at her, wielding a massive enchanted claymore in both hands.

            Rayna darted frantically among the rocks, hearing the cries of the army of dremoras in hot pursuit. She clamored over sharp boulders, scraping her knees and elbows. Wicked, poisonous plants nipped at her ankles as she brushed past. The creatures were closing in from behind. She found herself standing on the edge of a large overhang, several feet from the path below. She knew she had no choice but to jump. She landed hard on the cobblestones, sharp pains shooting through the soles of her feet. Daring to look back, she saw the hoard of monstrous creatures already on the overhang behind her, closer than she’d expected. She frantically looked for a place to hide. Finding nothing, she sprinted as fast as she could, ignoring the searing pain in her joints. She knew she could only outrun the dremoras for so long. Arrows whizzed past her on all sides, coming within millimeters of striking her. She took a left off the path and tried to make her way down the mountain. She quickly realized this had been a mistake, as the creatures had seen her and began to make their way through the rocks, quickly gaining on her. She could see the footpath continuing farther down below her, and made the decision to jump again, this time landing in a heap. She scrambled to her feet and started running again. She noticed a recessed door inscribed with the Daedric letter “O” in the cliffs to her right and decided to give it a try. She had no idea what might await her inside, but she knew that continuing down the path meant certain death, so she plowed through the door.

            The doorway led to a cave system created by cooled magma tubes in the mountainside. The only light came from boiling pools of molten rock. She knew the dremoras would quickly figure out that she’d entered the cave, so she ran blindly through the tunnels, searching for a safe hiding place. She found herself deep in the tunnels at a dead end, seemingly caused by a rock slide, and wedged herself as far into the rocks as she could. Panting, she prayed to the gods that the dremoras wouldn’t be able to find her there.

            She listened intently as the dremoras’ voices and footsteps soon filled the tunnels. She found herself instinctively holding her breath as several made their way past her hiding spot. One of the creatures wandered closer to where she hid. Her heart was thundering so loudly, she wondered if he might be able to hear it. She could see his armor-clad feet within inches of her battered leather boots. _‘Please don’t see me, please,_ please _don’t see me,’_ she thought frantically, wondering how it might feel to be eviscerated by the Daedric longsword he carried at his side. Much to her relief, the creature soon retreated back up the tunnel to join his comrades in their search. She felt the tense muscles throughout her body relax slightly. She sighed to herself.

Rayna knew that even if she managed to evade the dremoras, she was still faced with the conundrum of having to find a way out of this godforsaken place. She knew that this was what Daran must have endured – what he might yet be enduring. It was a terrible feeling, to know that he was either dead, or suffering somewhere just as she was. That neither of them might ever see their family again. And poor Sevyn, how long would he wait, hoping for her eventual return? He was such a truly sweet, kind young man. She desperately wanted to see him again. Maybe, somehow, he would find a way to rescue her. She could only hope. And pray. As she waited for the dremoras to retreat, she prayed to every ancestor and deity she could think of. She did not want to die here. She had far too many things she still wanted to accomplish in her life. Too many things she hadn’t yet experienced.

The sounds of the dremoras became fainter and finally disappeared altogether. Rayna decided to wait just a little longer, to be absolutely certain that they were gone, before leaving her hiding place. She could finally breathe though, and she let her body relax, allowing the rocks to support her weary bones. After a brief few moments, however, she was jolted out of her state of respite by an awareness that the rocks had shifted behind her. She jumped up, afraid of being crushed by a second slide. In the silence that followed her abrupt movement, she suddenly became aware of a noise emanating from behind the pile of rocks. It sounded like a very low, agonized groan. The noise stopped, and the rocks again shifted slightly. Rayna slowly began to back away. She didn’t want to run for fear that the dremoras might still be somewhere in the tunnels, searching for her. It was likely that they’d stationed a few scouts somewhere nearby to catch her should she try to leave. She stared at the rockslide, her heartbeat picking up again.

Again, the low struggling sounds. More shifting rocks. And then, faint panting and gasping. Rayna didn’t know whether to try to figure out what it was, or try to find another hiding spot on the double. The thought crossed her mind that it could be Daran. Wouldn’t _that_ be miraculous. But no, the sounds weren’t reminiscent of her brother’s voice at all. The noises were far too deep and baritone to come from a skinny young Dunmer like Daran. _Something_ was trapped back there, though. Something that might rip her to shreds… Or save her life. 


End file.
